"I think I understand now....why you're so afraid of losing Chloe," Meredith says. "You've already been through it once."
I look at her, suddenly desperate for reasons I can't fully explain. "I can't go through that again, Meredith."
She pulls me into a tight hug. "You're stronger than you think, Daniel," she whispers into my ear. "Always remember that."
Everything else melts away, blurring like the edges of a watercolor brushstroke against damp paper. I breathe in the scent of her hair. My mouth is inches from her slender neck. I want to kiss it. Kiss her. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Slowly, she pulls away from me; a soft pink spreads across her cheeks. I immediately miss the feel of her body pressed against mine.
"Are you sure you weren't a therapist before?" I ask, trying to lighten the moment.
She smiles. "Sorry, friend. Still just a hair stylist," she says, splashing water toward me.
I shake my head.
"What? No other questions? I don't believe you've asked your daily allotment," she teases me.
"What part of the Phil story was based on the truth?"
"What?"
"The other day you said all lies have a measure of truth to them."
She looks down at the water. "I was traveling with someone before I met you and Chloe. And they died," she answers quietly.
"Your husband?"
"No. And you just reached your one-question quota for the day."
Before I can say anything else, she's under the water...escaping me as fast as she can.
Chapter Forty-One
Chloe
A few days after watching Kelli die, we meet a man named Wayne and his friend, Bruce. Wayne is handsome, in his own way. If I had met him before the world ended, I wouldn't have thought that, but seeing the dead come back to life and eat people changes your perspective on people.
People like Wayne.
He's in his early thirties. At least, I think he is; he never volunteered the information, and I didn't ask. His dark blue eyes are kind, but serious. They remind me of lake water on an overcast day. His brown hair is shaggy, falling haphazardly around his ears, and he has a scruffy beard. It suits him. Most importantly, he's a hunter. If he can help provide some form of meat to go with our steady diet of beans, he just might be the sexiest man alive.
Not that there's a lot of competition left.
Wayne doesn't say much, which is nice, because I don't feel like talking much. Bruce, on the other hand, is foul-mouthed and vulgar. And he talks a lot. His sandy-blonde hair is cut into the hardest mullet I've ever seen, and his upper lip is hidden by a thick mustache, yellowed by years of smoking. Whereas Wayne is tall and lean, Bruce is short and stocky, and the only thing he talks about is how much he misses beer, bars and women. His tanned skin is filthy from days (maybe weeks) of filth and sweat.
I don't like Bruce, nor do I trust him, but it seems like he and Wayne are a package deal, so I put up with the former to avoid losing the latter. You'd be amazed at what you'll tolerate when you're hungry.
Or close to giving up.
* * *
Daniel
Bruce is going to be a problem.
I've talked to him for a total of ten minutes, and I already know he'll need to be dealt with at some point. I watch him walking ahead. He's leading us toward our next destination...wherever that might be. All I know is we're getting closer to Asheville, and when we get there, maybe we can get farther away from him.
That can't happen soon enough, in my opinion.
He pays way too much attention to Meredith and Chloe. Too many long stares; too many inappropriate comments; too many eye rolls from Wayne. That's how I know his behavior is going to be an issue.....even his friend and traveling companion knows he's out of line.
Chloe and Meredith are still so disillusioned by the deaths of Lane and Kelli, they barely notice or react to Bruce's advances, but I notice. I'm afraid to sleep, afraid to rest, afraid to let my guard down. I'm not sure what he might try to do. I'm also not sure how Wayne would react if I had to defend the girls against Bruce.
And they're both armed.
"I know what you're thinking."
The sound of Wayne's voice startles me. I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's that?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
He lights up a cigarette, and exhales a thin plume of smoke into the air between us. "I won't let him hurt your sister. Or your friend," he says.
He walks off before I can respond, taking his place beside Bruce at the front of the group. I let out a long, steady breath. Great. Wayne knows I'm on to Bruce and his less than chivalrous intentions. Now, I can either relax a little...or worry more.
I really hope it's the former.
Chapter Forty-Two
Chloe
"Anyone ever tol' you yer really pretty?"
I roll my eyes, and continue fixing my pallet for our mid-afternoon break. The lunch to late-afternoon hours are extremely hot, so we walk a few miles each morning, then set up a mini-camp until 6:00 PM; after that, we walk again until nightfall. If we're lucky, we find a house to break into before it gets dark. If not, we camp out under the stars and pray that a group of Revs don't stumble upon us while we sleep.
Wayne found sleeping bags in the last house we pilfered. I finish spreading out the green one I claimed, and sit on top of it, crossing my legs. Unfortunately, Bruce sits down beside me.
"You ignorin' me, lady?"
I refuse to look at him. He's gross and he smells wretched. Granted, none of us smell great, but he smells especially bad. Probably because he's rotten inside and out. We've been traveling with him and Wayne for over a week now...I think...and I haven't been able to find even one redeeming quality in Bruce.
"Hey...I'm talkin' to you."
"What do you want, Bruce?" I finally ask.
He laughs and places a hand on my upper thigh, squeezing it. "Well, I reckon I might see something I like."
I swat his hand away, disgusted. "I didn't ask what you might like. Nor do I care."
He puts his hand back on my leg, and says, "Aw, don' be like that, mama. I bet you'd like it if you tried it."
"Don't touch me," I say through gritted teeth.
He laughs, but he doesn't move his hand. "Playin' hard to get, huh? I like it."
Just then, Wayne appears. "Come on, man. We goin' huntin'." He looks at me and nods. "Chloe."
"Hey, Wayne," I say, hoping he can see the gratitude in my eyes. I know he doesn't want to go hunting right now. It's too hot. He's doing it to get Bruce away from me.
Bruce looks up at his friend and scowls. "Man, why we goin' right now? It's hot as the devil."
"You wanna eat tonight?"
Bruce looks at me and licks his lips. "I’m workin’ on the appetizer right now."
I think I might vomit.
Wayne kicks his leg, hard. "Get up. I ain't gonna ask you again."
It occurs to me that Wayne must be the alpha in their little tribe, because as soon as he squares his shoulders and lowers his voice, Bruce stops arguing and stands to follow him. I watch them disappear into the woods. A few minutes later, Daniel and Meredith appear, carrying bottles filled with water from a small stream nearby.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Daniel asks, immediately concerned by the look on my face.
Meredith sits down beside me. "If I had to guess, I would say Bruce happened."
"And you would be correct," I say, grimacing.
"We were only gone five minutes!" Daniel says. He looks around the small camp. "Where are they now?"
"Wayne intervened.....told Bruce they needed to go hunt." I shiver. "Thank goodness."
I'm too scared to say what I'm really thinking....that I don't know what would have happened if Wayne hadn't walked up when he did. How much longer will it matter, anyway? Each day, Bruce gets bolder. One day it won't matter what Wayne or Daniel says, or if they're even around...one day he's going to get his fix.
&nb
sp; What will that mean for me? Or Meredith?
Or both of us?
* * *
Daniel
Wayne and Bruce have been gone for a while now.
Bruce could stay gone forever, for all I care, but Wayne brings valuable skills to our group. He can hunt and provide additional protection. I'm more comfortable when he's around. More at ease. When he's here, I'm not the only man responsible for the safety of two women.
I hope he didn't decide to leave us in an effort to protect us from Bruce.
Meredith sits down beside me. "Worried Wayne skipped town?"
"It may have crossed my mind."
She wipes the sweat from her forehead. "I hope he didn't. But I would understand if he did."
"What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "Wayne has a way about him. I don't know...some primitive code of honor, or something. I feel like he would leave if it meant protecting us."
I sigh. "Yeah, that may have also crossed my mind."
We sit for a moment longer, staring at the tree line, willing Wayne to reappear.
"Why did you and your husband divorce?" I ask, changing the subject.
Meredith looks away.
"Well?"
"We didn't divorce," she says, after a long silence.
"So, you're still married?"
She shakes her head, but doesn't answer.
I raise an eyebrow. "How does that work? Either you're married or you're not."
"Maybe you should word your questions more carefully," she retorts, then stands and walks off, leaving me alone.
I'm thinking about her answer...or non-answer...when I hear the snapping sound of someone stepping on a branch. I tense, readying myself for whoever or whatever might break through the treeline. A moment later, Wayne steps out of the woods, wearing a haunted look on his face and holding a dead snake in his left hand.
Bruce isn't with him.
I meet him halfway. "What happened? Where's Bruce?"
He shakes his head. "Bruce ain't coming back," he says.
"What? I don't understand."
"Rattlesnake got 'im. He's dead."
"Dead?!"
The girls hear the commotion and come walking up.
"What's that?" Chloe asks, pointing at the snake.
"Dinner," he says, holding it up in the air.
"No...I mean, what's the deal with it? Why were you yelling, Daniel?" she clarifies, directing the last question at me.
"Bruce is dead," I explain.
Wayne nods, confirming my statement.
Meredith and Chloe shout "what?!" at the same time, but Wayne doesn't elaborate. He just shrugs and begins cleaning the snake, preparing it for the fire. I watch as he pulls the skin away. His knuckles are bloody, and he has an ugly scratch on the right side of his neck. If I was a betting man, I would say Wayne killed Bruce and staged the snake attack.
Normally I wouldn't condone taking the life of another human being. But I wouldn't normally live in a world teeming with Revs, either; or walk for hours on end each day, looking for a place to sleep; or hang out with men who obviously grew up on the wrong side of the tracks; or silently applaud the one who may or may not have killed the other to protect Chloe and Meredith.
I think Wayne might be my new favorite person in the world.
* * *
Chloe
I'm sitting beside the fire later that night, watching its orange flames lick the night air. The embers burn a deep red, making me think of hell. I wonder if that's where Bruce is right now? Or was he spared because of some hasty baptism way back when?
We just finished the last of his killer.
A snake never tasted so good.
My stomach is still getting used to eating wild meat...or any meat, for that matter...so I'm cramping. Again. I haven't decided if I prefer that feeling over being hungry; they're both pretty rough. Although, I think I'm feeling better than Wayne. He looks wounded, like Bruce's death took a small part of the wild hunter with it.
I feel obligated to make conversation. After all, he's part of our odd little family now.
"How did you and Bruce become friends?" I ask gently.
He shrugs. "Just always were."
"Even before?"
He nods.
I look back at the fire, and tell the biggest lie I've told in a while. "I'm sorry he died, Wayne."
He stands. "Nah, don't be. He deserved worse."
He walks off...the memory of Bruce effectively laid to rest.
Daniel sits down beside me after Wayne leaves. "What's wrong with him?" he asks.
"I think he's upset about Bruce. Apparently they've been friends for a while."
"Do you think Bruce's death was a little, I don't know, suspicious?"
I shrug. "Don't know, don't care. I'm just glad he's not around anymore."
"Me too. Still...."
"I'm going to bed," I say, interrupting him.
"What's wrong?"
I rub my stomach. "I'm cramping. I'm gonna go lay down."
He seems concerned, but I assure him I'm fine, so he says, "Okay, I hope you feel better."
I give him a quick peck on the head. "Love you, Daniel."
"Love you, too."
I walk to my sleeping bag and lay down. It's close to Wayne's pallet, but I make a point not to bother him. He's been through enough today. I lay there for a moment, thinking about my new life, and how much things have changed since that sunny afternoon in May.
That last lunch at Hannah’s Cafe seems like a lifetime ago.
I never imagined I would be sleeping outside, or rummaging through empty houses for supplies, or eating snakes slow-roasted over a campfire, or missing friends who died too soon...or being happy that some people haven't survived as long as others.
"Stomach hurt?"
I turn to look at Wayne. He's propped against the trunk of a tree, chewing a small twig.
"A little," I answer truthfully.
He tosses me a small plastic bottle. "What is it?" I ask, trying to read the label in the darkness.
"Pain reliever."
I smile. "Thanks, Wayne. I appreciate it."
"Don't mention it."
I take two of the small pills and swallow them without water. I lay back on my pallet and sigh. If only Wayne had pills to fix the emptiness in my heart.
Chapter Forty-Three
Daniel
Later that night, I'm sitting by the fire, breathing in the comforting blend of its warmth mixed with the cool night air.
I called first watch.
Chloe and Wayne are asleep. I can hear them snoring; Chloe softly, Wayne louder. Their nighttime duet is peaceful and achingly normal. Listening to it almost makes me forget that I'm living in a real-life nightmare.
Almost.
Meredith sits down beside me and wraps her arms around her knees. "You know...as hot as it is during the day, the fire always feels good at night. Safe, I guess," she says.
"Yeah, it does," I agree. A large stick in the fire rolls, and sends sparks of orange light into the night sky. "Have you ever noticed Revs never seem to come around when we have a fire burning?" I shrug. "I don't know, though. Maybe it's just a coincidence," I say.
"They don't like the light."
"Oh?" I say, looking at her.
She flinches. "I mean...I don't know that for certain...obviously, but it seems like they don't like fire, so maybe it has something to do with light. Or heat." She shakes her head. "Or, maybe you're right. Maybe it's just a coincidence," she adds quickly.
I'm too tired to worry about what she meant...or didn't mean...by that uncharacteristic rambling. I don't care. I just want to sit for one night, with a beautiful woman, in front of a warm fire, and pretend that my life is normal.
So I do.
Meredith and I watch the flames dance higher and higher, reaching for the black sky. The soft, orange light of the fire illuminates the branches of the trees towering above us. It’s spooky and beautiful, all at the sam
e time. I breathe in the comforting smell of burnt wood and ash.
I glance at Meredith. She's staring straight ahead, looking at the fire like it's the most interesting thing she's ever seen...like it holds the cure for the disease ravaging the world. The fire sends shadows dancing across her face. She looks sad. Conflicted.
"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to pry," I say, breaking the silence to clear my conscience.
Meredith nods, but doesn't answer.
I toss a small stick onto the fire, and watch the sparks scatter. "But I guess I'm always prying, aren't I?"
She sighs. "It's not your fault, Daniel. I'm the one who started this stupid game."
"True, but still...I'm the one who keeps forcing you to play it every day."
She finally looks at me. "I just....I never thought we'd still be talking about any of this. I figured one of us would be dead by now....and then my secrets could die, too," she adds quietly.
It never occurred to me that Meredith might want to forget whatever it was that brought her to the small town just outside Everly. I've been so focused on making sure Chloe was safe, and satisfying my own morbid curiosity, that I didn't consider what my questions were costing her personally. Emotionally. I feel like the most selfish person in the world right now.
"I'm sorry, Meredith," I say again. "Honestly, I am."
She rests her chin on her knees, and stares at the flames. "It's fine. I should have stayed behind...that day in Wilco...I should have stayed behind and finished what I set out to do. But, then you and Chloe came along, and I was lonely and scared...and to that point, unsuccessful, and I thought, hey, they want to help me, so I went along." She smiles. "And, it felt nice...so nice to be with actual people...even if you thought I was a liar...and I just wanted a fresh start, you know? I wanted to pretend to be someone else for a while." Her smile fades, and the light of the fire illuminates the unshed tears in her eyes. "But then you kept questioning me, and I kept slipping up, and I realized I would never be anyone else. I would always be Meredith...the worst person ever."
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